


Proper Table Manners Are Hard!

by WeirdAlterEgo



Series: Bruce's Lessons For Inexperienced Young Men [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Dark Bruce Wayne, Enemas, Grooming, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, unbetaed we die like robins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26964487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdAlterEgo/pseuds/WeirdAlterEgo
Summary: "Today, no matter what happens, try not to be affected. Do you have your homework with you?"Tim blinks, nods at the sudden change of topic."Good." Bruce nods as he stands up, pulls Tim with him. "You will be working on it in the dining room."
Relationships: Tim Drake/Bruce Wayne
Series: Bruce's Lessons For Inexperienced Young Men [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952965
Comments: 7
Kudos: 121





	1. Let's Play A Game

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I started writing this before the Damian one. And then I wrote myself into a corner with people wanting the continuation of _that_ , which I intend to do! But I needed to finish this first, so the other one would make sense. So.
> 
> This is gonna be a twofer, with like 2 sentences of plot included.
> 
> Guys I'm sorry but the end of the second chapter turned out really, really dark.

From time to time, Bruce puts Tim through one of his special trainings. They are tailored just for his stature, his skillset. They are all created so Tim is prepared for every eventuality.

Bruce only plans these lessons for him when it's just the two of them in the Manor.

Since he turned 16, Tim has grown used to waking up to strange things happening to his body after he falls asleep in Gotham, at the Manor, rare as it is.

He needs to be with the Titans, he always tells Bruce, because they need him, too. They expect Tim's help. And it's true. It really _is_ true. Even if Bruce doesn't believe him.

Maybe Tim should be a little more assertive when he tells Bruce that?

But it's so hard to face Bruce and tell him no. To tell him why he cannot stay over. So after a while Tim... inevitably gives in.

He sleeps at the Manor, and wakes up naked, fingered, or bound, maybe a mix of the above.

This time he wakes up, and the world is shaking.

No. Wait. Tim is being fucked.

His brain is coming online too slowly, which means Bruce managed to drug him again. Tim can't figure out how he keeps _doing_ that. He is always so careful to only ever eat Alfred's food and get his own drinks.

Yet he still falls prey without fail.

He hears a grunt from above, and feels warmth in his stomach. His thighs feel wet and chilly. He tries to push himself up on his elbows, but gets pushed back down by a broad hand.

"Stay still." Bruce tells him calmly, and Tim feels as Bruce pulls out of his hole, pushing something else inside him. It's cold and hard and _big_.

Tim squirms and makes himself adjust. He has no other choice. Squeaks when the plug in him shifts and _clanks_.

Bruce chuckles above him, finally letting Tim up. "We'll be trying something new today," he says as he wipes Tim down.

Tim is on all fours, still wary of moving, when he feels Bruce pulling a pair of his sweats up his legs. He thinks clothes and no numbness means no harness today. Tim hopes he finally got a reprieve.

Bruce picks him up without warning, flips him in the air like nothing and sits him down, hard. The thing sinks further into Tim, which doesn't even phase him at this point. Bruce smiles at him, proud as can be.

"I knew you were ready," he says as he hands Tim one of his shirts. "Today, no matter what happens, try not to be affected. Do you have your homework with you?"

Tim blinks, nods at the sudden change of topic.

"Good." Bruce nods as he stands up, pulls Tim with him. "You will be working on it in the dining room."

The thing goes clank and clunk as Tim moves. He breaks out in cold sweat. Stops. Digs his heels in.

"Bruce... Bruce I think it's _broken_!" He whispers. _Why_ is he whispering? He is allowed to talk... right? _Right?_

Bruce looks back at him. Gives a great sigh.

"It is perfectly safe." He chides, and Tim feels like a misbehaving child. Bruce has that effect on him, even through his terror. "It is made to rattle with movement. It is not broken."

He pulls Tim with him again, and the clinks and clunks shake the plug in Tim with the motion of his gait. He tries to adjust, to waddle, but Bruce smacks him. Hard.

"Walk normally, or we will have to try something else." Bruce says, voice dripping with disapproval. "You were doing so well, Tim. Don't ruin it."

Tim goes cold all over, corrects his gait subconsciously. He doesn't want _something else_. The mere through of the harness makes him feel sick.

He lets Bruce pick his schoolbag up and herd him out of his room with the thing shifting and clunking inside him, the thin material of his sweats rubbing against his cock. He feels himself begin to rise, tenting out his pants when they reach the banister.

Bruce reaches over and lays a hand on his penis, adjusts him as he whispers in Tim's ear, "if you come today, you won't be allowed to clean up or change."

Tim shivers. Tries his breathing exercises as Bruce tugs him down the stairs. Thinks of his case photos, gruesome murders, anything to get his mind off of the rattling plug moving inside him with every step.

When they reach the ground floor, he is flaccid. Bruce strokes his front gently, murmuring "good boy" as he does so. Tim waits until he is allowed out of his reach to sit at the table and begin to work on homework.

***

He works for an hour, keeping his shifting to a bare minimum. He is flaccid, which is good. He can do this. He will _ace_ this. And then the trainings would stop!

He is in a good mood until Bruce stands up, walks beside him. Pulls Tim up to stand against the desk. Pushes him down.

Tim swallows. He feels as the sweats are pulled down over his ass, blunt fingers worming under the base of the plug. Bruce plays with it, pushing and pulling the clunking, rattling thing for a while. Tim breathes in, breathes out.

The plug is yanked out, and Tim chokes on his own spit. He whimpers as Bruce pushes into him, bottoms out, pulls out, again and again until Tim starts drooling. His prostate is rubbed continuously by Bruce's length. Tim's trapped dick rises to full hardness inside his sweats while Bruce takes his sweet time fucking him.

He is proud of not coming by the time Bruce finally finishes in him and pushes the plug back up. At least he cleans the spilled mixture of lube and come off of Tim before he pulls his pants back up, Tim thinks gladly. Alfred would be horrified by the soiled chair.

Bruce feels his erection then, his broad, hot palm encompassing Tim's whole length, and to his horror, Tim feels his cock twitch, dribbling precome.

Bruce sighs as he lets Tim go, walks back to the head of the table, picks up his newspaper. "Remember." He chides Tim from behind the pages.

Tim sits back down. Winces as the plug rattles and pushes against his walls. Wills himself down.

***

Tim is fucked twice more. Each time, Bruce checks Tim's erection, strokes it until the boy is a weeping, crying mess. But Tim is not giving up. Ruthlessly, he tamps his arousal down to a semi. He knows he can do this.

He is confident until he stands up to get a bottle of water, and every rattle of the plug rubs his prostate. He's hard and crouching against the fridge, whimpering before he knows it.

He sees Bruce look at him from where he is set up with his laptop and the morning paper by his side, grabs a bottle of water and holds it against his front, the cold shocking him out of his daze.

"No cheating." Bruce admonishes.

Tim didn't know it was cheating.

He makes his slow pace back to his chair, whimpering and groaning from holding it all in by sheer will when the front door opens.

Dick walks in. Looks at them. Grins.

Tim sinks down onto his chair in sheer mortification, hoping that his elder brother saw nothing, clenching down on the agonized sob as the thing rubs him just right.

He knows that even with Dick's arrival, clearly in his sight, Tim is a hair's breadth away from coming in his pants.

He glazes over Dick's answers to an upset Bruce (he must be annoyed their training got interrupted) and only looks up when Dick's hand lands on his shoulder.

"Hey, little brother!" Dick grins as he sweeps Tim up into a half hug, the chair's back hiding Tim's wet, sweat-clad erection from sight, then drops him back down carelessly. _Hard_.

There, as Tim lands against the chair's cushion, while Dick's back is turned, Bruce is observes him with keen eyes. He bounces on the cushion from the the speed of his fall, the plug fucks up into him hard, rattling, and Tim comes in his pants.

His pants turn warm and wet as it soaks up his come, molding the fabric against Tim's still guzzling erection.

Bruce sighs.

Tim is mortified. He came in front of _Dick_. He came! He lost the fight. He failed the training.

The harness looms.

He shuts down.

***

He comes to as he gets yanked up from the chair. By Bruce.

His things are packed away, and his pants are cold and sticking to his front. He panics. Bruce restrains him with a single arm around him. It's humiliating.

"Dick is gone." He tells Tim, because of course that's what matters. "We will continue this elsewhere."

When Tim reaches for his bag, he is pulled away.

"You won't need that." Bruce tells him as he marches Tim up the stairs. The plug rattles in Tim. His cock and balls stick wetly to his sweats. He weeps as he rises again, resigned to being forced back into the harness.


	2. Bruce Cleans Up His Toy This Time

Bruce walks Tim back to his room. By then, Tim is leaking again, but he just doesn't care anymore. He wants to tell Bruce, to beg him to not put him in the harness again, because he truly hates it, but he doesn't dare.

Instead he lets the older man coax him out of his soiled pants and onto a sheet laid down over his bed.

Bruce pushes his head down, and Tim goes. He stares sightlessly at his desk, just a few steps away from the bed, but out of his reach while Bruce pulls the plug out of his ass.

Precum drips from the tip of his penis as something else is inserted into his anus.

There is a puff, and the thing gets bigger. Another puff, and it stretches Tim. It grows and grows as Bruce keeps inflating it, until Tim starts keening and whimpering from the sheer pressure.

Bruce strokes Tim's head gently then, tilting his face so Tim looks up at him.

"It was my fault. I misjudged your progress. It was too soon," Bruce tells him gently. "I thought you were ready, but you weren't. So we will try something else now. Please pay attention, for you might have to do this yourself later." He strokes back Tim's sweaty hair. "It might feel uncomfortable at first, but I know you can get used to it."

With that Bruce walks back behind him, and Tim feels a few tugs on the plug stretching him so very _wide_.

Tim thinks he might want to ask what _it_ is, because it sounds like _it's_ not going to be the harness again, but then he feels...

There is a slight dripping... a _trickle_.

He cranes his head around to stare at what Bruce is doing. He sees an IV stand. In his room. There's a bag of clean liquid hanging from it. Where did Bruce pull it out of, he wants to ask, but his tongue is stuck to his palate. He is dumbstruck again.

He sees Bruce staring at him, eyes steely and cataloguing Tim's every reaction.

Tim sees him adjust something on the tube coming from the bag, and the trickle becomes a stream. Tim shifts as his stomach begins to feel heavy. The plug presses harder against his prostate, making him drip again onto the sheet below him.

Because against all odds, Tim is still hard.

"That's it," Bruce strokes his thigh, eyes fixed on Tim's dick as it twitches with each of Tim's shifts, trying to find a comfortable position, where none is to be found.

Tim feels full. Bloated. Filled to the brim, his stomach growing heavier still as Bruce adjusts the flow once again, and liquid is gushing into Tim's cramping stomach. He stares back at Bruce in panic, at the bag that's half empty and opens his mouth to beg.

He whimpers.

Bruce graces him with a gentle smile and he sits beside him. He strokes Tim's shaking thigh, his rounding stomach, and takes Tim's drooling penis in his hand. Tim whimpers again and jumps at the heat, jostling the plug and the sloshing liquids inside him.

Bruce presses him back down again, one hand between his shoulder-blades, the other goes to encircle Tim's cock again.

Tim whimpers at the conflicting sensations.

He's full. So, so full. His stomach hurts, no matter how he tries to take the pressure off, while Bruce's hot, calloused palm feels so good around his cock.

"There," Bruce tells him indulgently. "Isn't that better, chum?"

Tim wants to nod, wants to say something, anything, but he cannot form words. His mouth has failed him. His body has failed him. He keens again and drools.

He waits for Bruce to move. But Bruce just sits there, smiling, stroking his shivering back, staring at Tim. Watching Tim as he whines, trying to escape.

"You are allowed to come," Bruce tells him. "But you will have to work for it." His hand on Tim's back slides up to Tim's ass to rest against the plug spreading his hole, and _pushes_.

Tim screams. His erection gets pushed into the curl of Bruce's fingers due to his momentum. His muddy mind is still in a daze, but his body gets it. He starts fucking Bruce's loose fist. He feels better already, his cock rubbing against precum slicked fingers.

He humps into Bruce's hand, belly sloshing with every movement, chasing his orgasm. He can feel Bruce's other hand tap-tapping on the inflated plug and his stretched walls, and he is so _close_.

He tries to get to a better angle, so Bruce's callouses rub the head of his dick just so, but his stomach bumps Bruce's hand away. He sobs, crying big, frustrated tears as his orgasm evades him. He stares imploringly at Bruce, surely it's not too much to ask to just change the angle, but the older man is staring at something else across the room.

Tim clenches his teeth as he presses his ass higher and bears down against Bruce's fingers, the head of his cock hitting those slick callouses once, twice, and then Tim's legs give out as he comes all over Bruce's hand, shaking and sobbing and still so _full_.

Bruce pulls back then, stands up, walks away.

Tim wants to call him back, wants his hand against him, but can't find the words.

And then Bruce is back anyway.

Tim's face is turned, tired eyes focusing on the empty enema bag.

"There. All done. It wasn't so bad, was it?" Bruce asks jovially.

Tim tries to say yes, it's uncomfortable. It makes him cramp up. He hates it.

He wants to ask Bruce why he would need to know how this feels, how it's done, but he can't form words. He's too tired, too full. He wants to empty his bowels and curl up into a ball. Be wants to ask Bruce how long he has to bear it.

Darkness takes him as Bruce strokes his sweaty hair, as he says, "just a little longer, to let it work, and then I'll take the plug out."

***

When Tim blacks out, Bruce leaves him, ass-up on the bed. He goes out to Dick who is waiting in the hallway. He knows his oldest saw Tim come in the dining room. He also saw Dick peek through a half-closed door while a crying Tim chased his orgasm with a belly-full of solution.

Bruce saw him, and saw the look in his eyes.

"Since when?" Dick asks him after he closes the door on Tim.

"Since his 16th birthday."

Dick hesitates.

"Did he... does he want this?"

Bruce sighs.

"He never said no." Which he didn't. Begged, against the harness? Yes. Said no? Not once. Bruce knows how to push Tim just right.

Dick swallows.

"Can I fuck him?"

Bruce smiles.

"Not yet. He is not quite ready. But soon."

Dick looks unhappy. He combs his fingers through his hair, looks like he would argue, but... stops.

"Did you... did you do this with Damian, too?"

Bruce wouldn't. That's a line that he is not willing to cross, for Talia would certainly not stand for _that_. Dick though... There's a thought.

"No," he tells his oldest. "But if you wish, you can initiate him."

He sees Dick's nostrils flare, the blush on his cheeks. "So I have your permission to do whatever I wish with Damian?"

Bruce nods. "Within reason. Nothing that would disfigure him, or make him incapable of fighting. And most importantly, nothing that would turn him against the family."

Dick swallows. Nods. Looks at Tim's closed door. "How long do you think it'll be before he is ready?"

Bruce thinks. "Hard to tell. He still has a bit of fight left in him. I have to break him carefully, or he will run away."

"Do you have the tapes then?"

Bruce grins. Of course he does. From multiple angles. He even has some edited footage for some private enjoyment. Tim is so beautiful when he is slack jawed and drooling as he bounces on Bruce's cock.

"They are all on my private server."

"Thanks." Dick stares at Tim's door again, like he wishes to stare through it like Superman. "When will you relieve him?"

"I'll get him off again first, see if he wakes up. If he does, I might let him go before I finish him."

Dick flashes a grin, turns away. "Make sure the tapes of that are up of that on your server, too!" he calls back.

Bruce goes back into Tim's room then, observes his lovely boy for a moment as he is spread so deliciously and stuffed so well.

Then he spreads a thin layer of lubricant over his fingers and starts working the unprotesting boy's cock into full hardness. Bruce really hopes Tim wakes up in the middle, so he can watch a little bit more of that fight go out of his boy's eyes as he is made to dispel it all while still fully aroused.


End file.
